A bloodied book lays open
On stained sheets
A laptop locked from prying eyes
A still-warm seat
The dank smell of cigarettes
Hangs on the curtains
A tumbler of gin spices the nose
A rusty brown edged mirror
Reflects the world inside
No moving pictures
Memories remain quiet here
A silent overwhelming
A sharpened pencil
Two elastic bands and a comb
Knocked to the floor
A story happened here
That’s happening no more